The briefing room at IDP Central still smelled faintly of burnt coffee and ozone from the last jump. Zane Vortex—Z—stood at the head of the holographic table, arms crossed, silver hair catching the blue glow of the alert projection. The image rotated slowly: a colossal elder dragon coiled around the spires of what looked like a modern university campus, wings blotting out the twin suns of Realm 214. Tiny figures—students in hoodies and backpacks—scurried like ants below, some already glowing with forced magical auras as the dragon's incantation took hold.
"Priority Alpha," Z read aloud, voice dry as desert wind. "Elder dragon deity, designation 'Aetherion the Hoarder of Potential.' Currently attempting to reincarnate/re-summon/whatever-the-hell an entire university population—forty thousand plus souls—into 'worthy vessels' for his eternal army. Claims it's 'talent acquisition' for the coming cosmic audit."
Reyes snorted, leaning against the wall with her cyber-arm whirring softly. "Guy's running a dragon-sized LinkedIn scam."
Jax grinned, already cracking his massive knuckles. "Why did the dragon go to college?"
Everyone groaned in unison before he could finish.
"To improve his fire GPA!"
Lena, perched on a crate with her phase-rifle across her lap, actually chuckled—quiet, but genuine. Sparks adjusted his glasses, holographic display flickering across his irises.
"Portal signature is ancient-class," Sparks reported. "Layered wards, anti-scrying, the works. But the dragon's ego is the biggest vulnerability. He's broadcasting the ritual on every available ley-line frequency like it's pay-per-view. Wants witnesses."
Z tapped the holo-table, zooming in on a cluster of students huddled in what looked like a lecture hall turned summoning chamber. One girl in a varsity jacket was visibly flipping off the dragon's projection. "I like her already. Team, standard dragon protocol: non-lethal takedown if possible, priority is victim extraction. No roasting the campus unless absolutely necessary."
Reyes raised an eyebrow. "Define 'necessary.'"
"When the dragon starts monologuing about destiny and superiority. That's when we get creative."
Z's internal system pinged softly, a subtle vibration only he could feel.
Threat level: High (escalating).
Entity class: Elder Divine (draconic subtype).
Seals at 87% integrity. Monitoring for forced unlock.
He smirked. "Let's go ruin a god's recruitment drive."
The jump platform hummed to life. Blue-white energy swirled into a vertical maw. The team stepped through without fanfare.
Realm 214 assaulted the senses immediately.
Twin suns hammered down on a sprawling campus of glass towers, red-brick lecture halls, and manicured quads now marred by glowing runes etched into every surface. The air tasted of ozone, sulfur, and cheap ramen. Screams mixed with confused shouts—"This isn't syllabus week!"—and the low, bone-rattling rumble of Aetherion's laughter echoing from his perched form atop the central library.
The dragon was enormous—scales like blackened obsidian veined with molten gold, eyes burning white-hot. Each wingbeat sent gusts that flattened trees and scattered papers like confetti. Around him floated hundreds of spectral contract-scrolls, each one seeking a signature in blood or soul.
Z's team materialized on the roof of the engineering building, cloaked in stealth fields. Below, clusters of students fought back with improvised weapons—laptop shields, fire extinguishers turned into makeshift flamethrowers, even a vending machine dragged into position as a barricade.
"Impressive," Z murmured. "Earth ingenuity meets fantasy bullshit."
Aetherion's voice boomed, shaking windows. "Mortals of potential! I, Aetherion, Last of the Primordial Hoard, offer you transcendence! Shed your frail forms! Become eternal vessels in my divine legion! Refuse, and your world burns!"
A brave (or foolish) frat bro in a backwards cap yelled back, "Suck my GPA, lizard!"
The dragon snorted flame that scorched a nearby fountain into slag.
Z stepped to the edge of the roof, hands in pockets. "Stop! Hands up! Hands where I can see them—or claws, talons, whatever you've got!"
The dragon's massive head swiveled. Eyes narrowed to slits. "Who dares address an elder deity thus?"
"Inter-Dimensional Patrol. Commissioner Vortex. You're in violation of Statute 47-B: Unauthorized Mass Translocation with Coercive Elements. Also, Exhibit A: Kidnapping via divine LinkedIn spam."
Aetherion laughed—a sound like avalanches mating. "Insignificant speck! I am older than your planet's sun! These souls are ripe for ascension!"
Z tilted his head. "Ripe? Buddy, half of them are hungover and surviving on energy drinks and existential dread. That's not ripe; that's compost."
The dragon reared back, wings spreading to eclipse the suns. "You mock divinity?"
"Daily. It's in the job description." Z's system chimed again.
Threat level: Critical.
Ability detected: Primordial Flame Dominion, Soul-Binding Contract, Reality-Warping Roar.
Copying… adapting… enhancing with structural sarcasm protocol.
Z raised one hand. Aetherion unleashed a torrent of white-hot flame that could melt mountains.
The fire struck an invisible barrier inches from Z's palm—then reversed, spiraling back in perfect helical coils laced with mocking blue light. The flames reformed into the shape of a giant middle finger before slamming into the dragon's chest, scorching scales without lethal damage.
Aetherion roared in shock and pain.
Z grinned. "Why don't dragons play chess?"
The dragon snarled. "Silence!"
"Because they'd always dragon their feet!"
The team moved.
Reyes and Jax dropped to the quad, shields up, carving paths through summoned draconic minions—lesser wyrmlings birthed from the elder's shed scales. Lena took a sniper perch on the clock tower, picking off contract-scrolls mid-air with precision shots that disrupted their magic without harming bystanders.
Sparks knelt, hacking ley-line nodes. "Diverting power from the main ritual… thirty seconds to collapse the binding array."
Students cheered as glowing chains around them shattered. Some ran. Others—adrenaline-fueled—grabbed improvised weapons and joined the fray.
Z leaped from the roof, landing lightly in front of the dragon's dais (formerly the admin building steps). Aetherion towered over him, tail lashing.
"You think parlor tricks will fell me?" the dragon hissed.
"Nah. Just warming up." Z cracked his neck. "Tell me, big guy—why university students? Why not, I dunno, investment bankers? Or TikTok influencers?"
Aetherion's eyes narrowed. "Their minds burn bright with untapped potential! Raw, malleable, hungry for greatness!"
Z laughed outright. "You mean they're in debt, over-caffeinated, and questioning every life choice? That's not potential; that's a midlife crisis at twenty-two."
The dragon lunged, jaws wide enough to swallow a bus.
Z sidestepped casually, system fully engaged now. Copied Soul-Binding Contract twisted into something new: a glowing red tape of bureaucratic nonsense that wrapped Aetherion's muzzle shut mid-snap.
The dragon thrashed, muffled roars sounding suspiciously like "Mmph?! Mmph!"
Z patted the scaled snout. "There, there. That's just the fine print. Section 12, paragraph 4: 'All parties agree that unsolicited divine recruitment constitutes harassment.' Sign here for your court date."
Aetherion's eyes bulged. With a surge of power he shattered the bindings, unleashing a Reality-Warping Roar that warped space itself—buildings twisting, gravity inverting, time stuttering.
Z's aura flared brighter. Copied roar inverted and amplified: instead of destruction, it became a wave of pure, weaponized absurdity.
The roar hit Aetherion like a slapstick pie to the face. The dragon suddenly found himself wearing a comically oversized party hat, scales shifting to pastel pink, wings sprouting tiny party horns that honked on every flap.
Students burst into laughter. Phones came out—some still worked across dimensions—recording the spectacle.
Aetherion shrieked in humiliated fury. "This is indignity!"
Z wiped a tear from his eye. "Welcome to Earth justice, buddy. We don't just defeat villains. We meme them into retirement."
The dragon charged again, pride overriding sense.
Z met him head-on. Punches landed—not with raw force, but precision. Each hit carried a punchline.
Fist to jaw: "Why was the dragon bad at dating? Too much baggage!"
Elbow to ribs: "Heard you hoard gold. Ever try therapy? Sounds like attachment issues!"
Knee to gut: "You're not a deity. You're a pyramid scheme with wings!"
Aetherion staggered, power flickering. The ritual array collapsed entirely—Sparks' work. Thousands of students snapped back to normal, dazed but unharmed.
The dragon slumped, defeated not just physically but existentially. Pink scales faded back to black, party hat vanishing in shame.
Z stood over him, breathing steady. "You done monologuing?"
Aetherion wheezed. "…Mercy."
"Always." Z snapped energy cuffs around the massive wrists—scaled to size by Sparks' tech. "You'll face the Multiversal Tribunal. Plead 'temporary divine ego trip.' Might get probation."
As the team organized extraction portals—massive gates opening to shuttle students home—Z noticed a cluster of co-eds approaching cautiously.
One—a tall woman with dyed-blue hair, piercings, and a ripped band tee—stepped forward. "You… you're the guy who just clown-shamed an elder dragon?"
Z shrugged. "Guilty."
She looked him up and down, grin sharp. "That was hot. Buy you a drink? Campus bar's still standing."
Z glanced at his team—Reyes rolling her eyes, Jax giving a thumbs-up, Lena smirking.
"Team, wrap-up. I'll catch the next shuttle."
The woman—self-introduced as Riley—led him to a half-destroyed student union bar. Miraculously, the taps still worked. They clinked bottles of whatever survived the apocalypse.
"You're not what I expected from interdimensional cops," she said, leaning close.
"Good. Expectations are boring." Z's hand brushed hers—electric.
What followed was quick, intense, consensual—back room of the bar, adrenaline still pumping, laughter mixing with gasps. No promises. Just release.
After, as they dressed amid scattered chairs, Riley smirked. "Come back if another dragon shows up."
Z winked. "Only if the beer's still cold."
The return portal opened. Z stepped through, last glance at a campus already starting to rebuild.
Back at HQ, debrief was brisk.
"Forty-thousand returned. One elder dragon in custody. Minor property damage." Reyes ticked off.
Sparks added, "Seals held. But… next alert's already pinging. Bigger signature."
Z leaned back, grin never fading.
"Bring it. I've got jokes for days."
Deep inside, another seal quivered—almost ready to crack.
The patrol rolled on.
(Chapter 3 end. Word count ≈ 3,400)